


The Price of Grit

by swells55



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith, carol - Fandom
Genre: Carol - Freeform, Carol Aird - Freeform, F/F, Price of Salt - Freeform, Therese Belivet - Freeform, abby gerhard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 08:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swells55/pseuds/swells55
Summary: Picks up where the movie/book left off.





	1. "I Do"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol and Therese reunite. All is good again.

_Hi there! Thanks for much for the comments. I decided to pick up where the movie left off. I have many ideas, so let me know if you guys like the way this goes._

A crescendo of emotions swayed in the distance between them. Carol stood up at once, signaling a pause in the festivities. It seemed to be an involuntary reaction, as Carol seemed to notice she had the undivided attention of the table. At once she gestured to Therese, maintaining the skillful poise she always had, slightly diminished by the indisputable excitement and disbelief that Therese had never seen grace those grey eyes.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is a dear friend of mine. Miss Therese Belivet. Excuse me, sir, could you bring another chair to add here?" The waiter brought over an additional seat right next to Carol, and they sat down in the same motion. Therese's presence felt tremendous.

Those around the table made polite attempts to introduce themselves, but Therese's attention glazed over their gestures. She felt Carol's hand touch hers under the table.

"Thank you." Carol barely whispered, looking at Therese, squeezing her hand, then gently stroking it with her thumb. She knew at once that this gratitude was for changing her mind, for forgiving Carol about what happened in the past. What did any of that matter, now that they had let go of all obligations, legal and emotional.  _They'd be together_. It was the closure that marked the beginnings of a future bursting with infinite potential.

"…I love you too." Therese said as an afterthought in Carol's ear, as the conversation that her entrance had interrupted commenced once more. Carol's reaction could not be masked even when struggling to carry on the discussion, blushing so much she had to use a napkin to mask her face.

They held hands through the whole dinner, though Therese only really paying attention whenever Carol spoke. These people, it had seemed, to be some of Carol's old friends from the days she worked at the furniture shop; Mr. Harrison, who had offered Carol a new job as a "buyer" in his armchair store, was a modest looking man with a fuzzy moustache. His old age and thick glasses paired with a terribly endearing toupee reminded Therese of a toy she sold in Frankenberg's called "Peppy Pappy." If one pulled the string in the back of the doll, it would recite something wise in an ancient but sagacious tone. "Brush your teeth young whipper snappers!" she could almost imagine Mr. Harrison say, having to retrain herself from grinning. On his left, was a woman who looked around Mr. Harrison's age and of similar caliber, but she was more focused on the movement of the water in her glass than participating in the discussion. This must be Mrs. Harrison, Therese assumed.

"Why, what a mighty fine young lady this is, Carol." The man sitting across Therese was eyeing Therese curiously. She recognized it as the same way that Dannie and Phil sometimes stared at her when they were having a night out on the town, drinking wildly and hungrily.

"Hullo Miss Belivet. The name's Oscar. Oscar Jansen. Friends call me OJ, cause I used to really love drinking orange juice too." Therese found his attempts at being charming rather funny. If only he knew, Therese thought, and she awkwardly shook his hand by the fingers.

"I'm gonna be the in-between-man for Carol at the shop. I drive the truck, I take the orders, I do the cashiering, pretty much anything Mr. Ol'Harrison don't do when he's not in." He went on for a few minutes about how long he had worked there, where he came from, and how "great" it was that Therese had come to the "celebratory dinner of Carol's welcome into the family." Therese tried hard not to communicate an irked glance at Carol, who seemed to be enjoying the company of these people and their musings. She must feel nostalgic, Therese figured, talking about the workings of management of a furniture store.

"You will have to apologise if I'm a bit rusty. It has been long while since me and Abby worked in this line of business." Carol's comforting posture and tone was enough to keep Therese quiet, even though she wanted nothing more than to slip away with her and kiss her. You are magnificent, Therese internally praised her love, whose blonde hair seemed extra voluptuous, composure more lively, and talking more motivated than Therese could have imagined. Carol was not one to be extremely obvious with what she was actually feeling, but the prospects of employment did truly seem to light a fire on a long extinguished wick.

After what seemed like a lifetime of discussing ladders, nightstands, and armoires, Carol said goodbye to her guests and they all bid them farewell. As Therese stood waiting, "OJ" appeared behind her.

"Hiya there. Say, would you be interested in going for a drive sometime?"

"Oh, no Mr. Jansen." Therese had completely foreseen this and had an answer prepared.

"I'm afraid I'm involved with someone else." His face had fallen, and his walking became dramatically slumped for effect.

"Ah shucks, what a lucky feller. I guess I'll see you around then! Good-bye Mrs. Carol!" He waved at her from a distance and walked away at a fast pace.  _How much more embarrassed would he be…if only he knew,_ Therese smiled to herself, almost laughing as she went to Carol's side.

"What did he want?" Carol, half-amused, half-annoyed, had asked.

"Just if I wanted to go for a drive. Of course I said I couldn't."

"Oh, and why is that?"

"Because I would rather sit through that dinner again for all of eternity than to go on a drive with  _that man_  than you." Therese explained simply, and hooked Carol by the arm while the walked to the car park. When they got into the darkness of the car, she finally spoke.

"Thank you Therese. You don't know how…" The words were struggling through her breaking voice, on the edge of tears.

"You'll ruin your make-up," Therese said as she started to wipe the tears from Carol's face with a handkerchief she had bought herself that day.

"You don't have to say anything."

Therese pulled Carol's chin up. Even in ruined makeup and glossy tears, she looked divine. Therese gave her a cheeky peck on the lips, and hugged her deeply, as if to pour in all the unsaid phrases, explanations, and emotions that Therese was not allowed to say earlier, yesterday, and all the time they had spent apart. Therese held onto her like a rediscovered lost object, gripping her like a precious and familiar lifeline that she couldn't begin to fathom why she ever let go of. Carol was still now, and Therese let go. Carol kissed her properly, swift and full. She started the engine and used her pinky to wipe away any remaining tears.

"Alright dearest. It's still early. Where would you like to go?" she said still slightly sniffling. Therese marveled at the intense fragility Carol possessed, and Therese was proud and honoured to witness it.

"Shall we get some notions?" Therese facetiously proposed.

Carol almost laughed but rolled her eyes, looking back to drive car in reverse.

"Christ, Therese…"

But the tone was loving, and so was Carol. And so was the moonlight that guided their path back home,  _their_  home, which Therese already was bursting with ideas and designs. They had a million things to do with nothing to stop them.

"Actually, I would love a milkshake." Therese reconsidered.

"Alright. Milkshake it is. My, you are a strange girl…"

 _It's easy to live, when you're in love,_ Billie Holiday sung on the radio as they drove to the nearest diner.

It was safe to say that this was the most easy Therese had  _ever_  felt in her entire life.


	2. Post-Milkshake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is forgiven, but who knocks at their door?

The surges of hazy snowfall brushed against the window pain. It was a pleasant day.

Therese was wearing Carol's robe while she looked out the window, a coffee warming her trembling hands. Carol had left already for an early start to meet Mr. Harrison for negotiations on a full time contract, leaving Therese the solitude to explore the flat. While she stared outside at the view of a quaint and quiet neighbourhood just outside of the city, she thought back to the conversation that had taken place the night before.

After Therese was fully satisfied with the strawberry milkshake she had so randomly craved, they decided to go to Therese's place for the anticipated conversation their immediate surroundings had denied them.

The second that Carol had walked through the door, Therese immediately rose to close and lock the door. She was hugging Carol from behind.

"I really missed you."

Carol seemed caught off guard, recoiling and softening at her touch. She turned around to face her.

"I should have told you to wait. I sho-"

"How did you know I was working at the paper?"

She had suddenly walked towards the living room to take her coat off. Therese almost didn't want to hear what Carol had to say. The letter that Carol had Abby give her had become a guide to grow, its lines branded and singed into her thoughts.

_"Please don't be angry when I tell you that you seek resolutions and explanations because you are young."_

The words danced around in her subconscious whenever she felt confused or misunderstood. As much as she had resented Carol for the first few days of their separation, she had come to understand what Carol had meant. And now she didn't really want explanations anymore.

_"I do the only thing I can: I release you."_

It was an unwilling free fall; being pushed off a cliff without warning. Her first reaction had been broodingly physical. The very idea of her, Therese, being " _released_ ", as if she was caught in a cage or some form of trap, had suddenly transformed their relationship to something grotesque- in a way she had never considered.

She remembered the tiny bird that Sister Alicia had once found in the courtyard. It resembled a crumpled pile of feathers and was badly injured. Therese had been sceptical of its survival. However, after a few weeks, it had gradually recovered and was even able to jump small distances. She saw Sister Alicia release it back into a nearby Douglas fir outside of her window, placed on the first level of branches as if a launching pad for a scrappy rocket that was denied the opportunity to fly.

Her feelings had tumbled from extreme sorrow and rage, teetering always on self-pity and self-loathing for being angry in the first place. She understood why Carol had done what she did. She was a mother- a rightful title that would be stripped from her without a fight or a fair reason. It was not her fault that she had to leave Therese. Carol did not seem capable of such error. She did  _not_ , however, need to ask Abby to come escort her back to New York.

The following weeks, Therese came in and out of moments of epiphany, all with the ambience of lament in her mind. Dannie had finally gotten back to her with news of a post at the New York Times as a clerk, and had gained attention from the head photographer when Therese had strategically brought him her portfolio. He would take her on as an intern while she did paperwork. Therese finally felt like she had a clearer concept of what she was meant to do...

Professionally, that is.

Her mind was a flurry of visions. When she was not preoccupied with processing photography for the press, the recollection of those grey eyes, their bodies merging, even the wall colours of all those motel rooms, fluttered in and out of the chaos of her mind space. There was not a second she did not wonder what Carol was doing. She even tried to call a few times, but the phone had been met with silence, always followed by a sense of dread that lingered long after she put down the receiver. At times she had wondered if she heard Carol breathing on the other end of the line. Still, even though Carol picked up, they were unanswered calls. And she learned to accept this, each day becoming easier to restrain herself from the hallway.

She was determined to prove something to herself, to Carol, that she would no longer be the "young girl" that her letter seemed to presume. She wanted that " _one day_ " to come. She wanted Carol to be there to greet her.

But that seemed become less and less likely. That is, until, Carol had somehow found her workplace and hand-delivered another fateful letter.

And here they were.

"Abby told me...I asked about you and she said you had a job at the New York Times. I am so very proud of you."

"It's all thanks to you, really."

"What?"

"For the camera you bought. I couldn't have done it without you."

Carol saw that Therese was determined to deflect her compliments. She continued to pace around the apartment, seeing the changes that Therese had made since the last time she had entered. There were different pictures- more captured glances of raw human interaction: A grandpa and granddaughter holding hands, workers smiling and smoking on the side of a dilapidated building, a fierce looking old lady with a piercing gaze that penetrated the picture itself. The photo of Carol herself seemed to have vanished or tucked away. Something small seemed to unravel within her. Much can happen in just a few months, she thought to herself.

"Do you want a drink?"

"Therese..."

"It's  _okay_  Carol. Like I said, you don't have to say anything."

"But I though-"

"Well if you must know..." she hesitated.

"I did feel quite a lot of pain when you left that morning. But I understand. And you were right."

Carol's silence prompted an explanation.

"You had a lot of things happening to you. I felt terrible that it was all because of me-"

"No, don't you  _dare_ -"

" _Let me finish!_ "

It was unlike Therese to cut her off. Carol was astonished. She continued, sounding nervous, as if she was at an obligatory confessional.

"-because of me, us, what was happening. But none of that matters now. I only said "no" before because...I wanted to say "no" to you  _for once._  But I regretted it the second I saw you leave. I was damn near ready to call after you if my friend hadn't shown up."

Carol broke into a grin. She remembered feeling the ridiculous urge to give murderous glares at the random man who had interrupted their conversation. What typical male behaviour, she thought. What surprised her most was to hear Therese use such vulgar words all a sudden. She thought she was the one who swore in their conversations.

"I spent the whole night thinking about finding you, but I had already promised my colleagues I would go with them to that party. I barely said a word when I was there."

A slight pause held the still air with bated tension.

"So...does this mean that you're saying..."yes"?"

"Yes."

"Yes it does."

It was the restart to a end that barely had a beginning. The acceptance felt like a lighter that sparked aflame every cigarette that Carol had ever smoked in her life- all accumulating to this one relieving drag still yet to be taken.

This "yes" was firm. Just like every other affirmation that Therese had given Carol. Although she had felt frustrated for "saying 'yes' to everything" before, she had realised that when it came to Carol, she always meant it. Always always always.

A beat passed before Carol burst into reply.

"Well that's excellent!" Therese had never seen Carol so excited about anything. Her coolness was gone. It was refreshing.

"Do you want to take a suitcase now? Or shall we stay here tonight? Or maybe we drive back to mine and think about this later. Oh Therese, you would love the.." Carol's voice trailed off, Therese terribly amused by Carol's child-like elation.

And just like that, Carol was in her life again. She would be saying "yes" to her for many more times to come.

She smelled the plaid robe that Carol had routinely worn, watching the nearby children outside starting a snowball fight. The coffee was lukewarm since Carol had already left for a while. She dreamily remembered Carol leaving, having brewed a cup for her before kissing her goodbye on the cheeks. She would wait there until Carol returned later with lunch.

Then a knock sounded at the front door.


	3. Doughnuts and Omelettes

Therese, naked aside from the hanging robe from her shoulders, felt her heart skip a beat.  _Who could that be?_ She rapidly started to put on undergarments while imagining the various scenarios what would occur should she open the door.  _Does anyone know that Carol had moved in? Did they know she was living alone? Did she know anyone in the building?_ She was determined to keep tranquil and first see who was on the other side of the door before panicking. After she put on some trousers.

She tiptoed to the door and looked on the other door with the least amount of motion that she could in her morning drowse. A distorted figure of a woman with a familiar bob was on the other side.

"Therese? Are you there?" It was Abby.

A flush of relief made an anxious Therese stop tensing her muscles and she unclenched her body. Of course it was Abby. Carol must have already called her to tell her the news. More knocks against the door prompted Therese to reply, "Yes? Uh, who is it?"

"It's Abby, don't worry. Just open the door." Therese unlocked the notches and Abby bust through in a friendly manner.

"I brought doughnuts. Carol thought you might want a treat this morning." Abby put a white cardboard box on the kitchen counter. It was obvious that she had been in Carol's flat before, for she moved with the air of someone who frequented it. Therese felt slightly irritated by this.

"Did Carol tell you I was here?" Therese felt stupid for asking the obvious questions answered by Abby's presence. Yet she felt obligated to fill the silence that occupied the space between her and Abby. She still wasn't quite sure how she felt about her.

"Of course silly! She called me this morning to tell me what happened." Abby, sat down on a cushioned armchair near the window. She found an ashtray and started to light a cigarette.

"Come, sit here. Have an éclair." Therese, slightly more clothed but still wearing the robe, sat across her apprehensively. Abby took a long drag before looking at Therese with bright eyes.

"I am truly so happy for you two." There was a clear degree of truth in her voice. The confidence of Abby's status in Carol's life had always been an instigator of envy for Therese, but due to the current circumstances, Therese finally agreed with Abby for once.

"Thank you." Therese weakly said.

"For what, honey?"

"For telling Carol about…about where I was working."

"Oh, it was imperative that she knew!" Abby said matter-of-factly. She smiled as she glanced out the window. It was still hard to make eye contact for too long.

"I knew the circumstances couldn't have continued that way. She was so…so unhappy." Abby frowned. "She regretted telling you what she did. She didn't think she'd be able to do what she eventually had to."

Therese could only sit there with nothing else to do but breath in the second hand smoke coming from Abby. She didn't mind, for it reminded her so much of Carol. She was obliged to feel gratitude, but she said nothing.

Abby continued taking long puffs. Seeing Therese wear Carol's robe was indeed,  _unsettling,_  but quite expected. To be perfectly frank, Abby was happy that Therese was back in Carol's life. To hear of the horrendous outcomes of what happened with Harge and Rindy, Carol had confided in Abby of her sorrow of losing not only her child but also "a love that she may never have the courage to know again". Carol was always first and foremost a dear friend, however much Abby had loved her in  _that way_. And it was important that Carol wasn't caught in episodes of sorrow, for their emotions were linked in this world that stood against their existence.

"Well, go on. Have an éclair. They're fresh from the bakery nearby." She got up and grabbed the box to offer one to Therese. Therese shyly took one. Abby didn't know to what extent this young girl "hated" her, but she was set on being at least comfortable. They were both fixed parts of Carol's life now.

"You got any plans today?" Therese casually tried to mutter after taking a half-sized bite into her pastry.

"Oh, just the usual. I have to do some things for work but there's no concrete deadline. Might go down to the steakhouse later. I'm meeting a friend."

"Oh." Therese didn't know if she should ask any further. She figured Abby wouldn't mind telling her more, however.

"Who?"

Abby's posture slackened, suddenly becoming poised with a tinge of sass.

"Well, Carol shouldn't be the only one with a nice 'friend' to spend time with." She joked and emphasized the word "friend" with extra sarcasm. Therese could not help but be comforted by this.

They, well, Abby, proceeded to talk in detail about her pursuit of this "red-head" named Mary, who was the daughter of the owner of a nice restaurant called "The Calverton" in Manhattan. While she enthusiastically talked, Therese found she quite enjoyed Abby's storytelling skills.

"She just had this 'look' in her eyes, you know? She was simply ' _looking_ ,' and I felt something. I mean, I had no idea if it she would  _go_  that way, but she came up to have a chat with me when I went there with once with some colleagues. I mean, I've considered the signs and I cannot say at all what it all means, but I'm not saying it's  _impossible_." Abby glanced knowingly at Therese, and it felt like Abby was just another close friend who you gossiped with and talked of scandalous things.

"She's still single, 32, has her own little café on the corner near the restaurant…She invited me to go and have a coffee and cake, but we're meeting in The Calverton so she can show me where it is. To be honest, I- "

The unlocking of the door break off her ramblings, to which Therese jumped up immediately, almost running to the door. Carol was home.

"Therese, darling, is Abby here?" Carol was carrying some groceries.

"Over here!" Abby yelled over to her. Carol put the brown paper bags on the kitchen table and headed over to Abby to kiss her on both cheeks, a sign of endearment they had always done even when they were girls. A French film that they watched as girls inspired them to greet each other this way for the rest of their life, feigning a foreignness that they identified with despite being 0% French. Therese waited to be acknowledged, and finally Carol came over to her and kissed her on the nose.

"How did you sleep?" Carol's voice was infinitely softer when she spoke to Therese.

"Fine." Therese was simply divine to see Carol back.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you Abby was coming, but I didn't want to wake you."

"Oh, that's alright. I was a bit frightened but…"

"I know we've got to be careful, but only until you officially move in." The repeated confirmation of their living together seemed to lift Carol's voice into a cheery tune. She started taking food out of the bags.

"What would you like to eat, my love?"

"Well-"

"Can you make me an omelet?" Abby interrupted Therese. There was an awkward pause followed by Carol's laughter.

"Yes of course," She threw a smirk at Therese, and Therese couldn't help but break into a small grin.

"And you, my love?" This time she gestured clearly at Therese.

"I'll just have whatever you're having." Therese, who never thought much about food, still had much to learn about her preferred tastes.

* * *

After lunch Therese had to make a quick run to the editorial office to pick up a package. Dannie had called her. They were photos for next month's issue and were to be sorted and filed for the next day. Carol drove her.

"I'm sorry about this morning."

"For what?"

"Abby can be…we have a very special friendship." Carol almost seemed embarrassed. Therese was tickled.

"Don't' worry. I don't mind."

"I know you two don't exactly…get along." Therese was starting to reconsider this perspective.

"No, really, I don't mind." Besides the blaring fact that Abby was Carol's former lover, she had the confidence to see that Abby was nothing more than one of Carol's closest friends. Now that she thought about it, the fact that Abby drove all the way to pick her up at Carol's request showed a devotion she had never seen in any of her own friends. All bias aside, Abby was pleasant, humorous, and had her own personal affairs that she openly shared with Therese.

"Abby is lovely." Therese said in quiet finality. These words seemed to have a monumental impact on Carol.

"Well, I'm glad to hear." Carol beamed. It was nice to know that the few important people in her life didn't loathe each other.

"So I'll come back to pick you up at 5?"

"Yes. I'll have to make some arrangements and call my landlord." Suddenly a flood of questions to be answered attacked Therese's worries. What was she suppose to tell him? Why would she want to move so  _out of the blue_?

"Um, actually, come back at 3. I need some help."

"I see. Well, I have a contractor coming to give me a new lease for you to sign at half past 2. I can be here a little before then?_"Yes, that's fine." She'd have enough time to get the package. And potentially, have time to call the grumpy man upstairs that she paid monthly.

On her way out of the office, she felt like a bumblebee was buzzing inside of her. There was much to do, and she started to feel stressed. It was so easy to say, "yes", to Carol, but she had not considered at all the tedious processes of moving. Of course she knew it was necessary and she very much wanted it, but she absolutely detested negotiations and business interactions. The formality of it made her extremely uncomfortable. She remembered how horrible it was to do it the first time. She had to meet with a Mr. Brown, a man as tall and tailored as his swanky suit, who sat her down in her future home while her landlord picked his nose and watched her sign the papers. It was fine when she was the one who was the agent, in control with instructions of how to proceed. It would be an exaggeration to say that "options" scared her, but she was gradually learning. I'd really rather not, she still thought to herself.


	4. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese has a nightmare.

After a grueling conversation with Mr. Keimer, who turned out to be completely blasé about Therese's terminated contract, Therese called Dannie to get her some boxes. He was probably the only positive thing that came out of being with Richard. Although Dannie made a pass at her, an event all together peculiar and random when recalled, he had been very reliable and helpful. He expected nothing from her, and remained contact despite his being Richard's friend first.

Therese suspected he knew something about her and Carol; that time he came over to help repaint the walls, there were numerous photographs of Carol asleep half-naked, which altogether was compelling evidence. Hopefully, Dannie wasn't so stupid either. Therese only realised after he left that she forgot to put them under the sink, feeling incredibly foolish for leaving them out in the open. But he never mentioned it. His only said something about just wanting to be friends, then diverted attention to himself and his current love conundrums. Somehow, she knew that if she were to tell him, he wouldn't be the least bit surprised. In fact, given his left winged opinions on the paper, she would've thought him to  _at the very least_  to be tolerant. She put the topic away from her mind. He arrived at the flat with new sheets of cardboard.

"He said I have to be gone by the end of the week." Dannie looked incredulous.

"But it's Friday!"

Therese gave him a knowing nod.

"I'm sorry, that's brutal Therese." He started folding up the boards to make boxes.

"Why the sudden move anyways?"

Therese's insides seized up. A million thoughts gave her a head rush and she needed to sit down.

 _Should I tell him the truth? No. To protect Carol, I shouldn't_.  _What could I possibly say? "I'm moving in with my lover, you know the one in the photos you saw. Yes, we, two women. What of it?_ "

"Um, I just wanted to move somewhere with more space to do my photography." The sentence left Therese with such a lack of conviction, completely failing to mask the truth behind it.

"Oh." Dannie looked at her with an ounce of what Therese knew to be skepticism. He continued folding.

"Where do ya want these to go?"

He had stayed all afternoon and left after helping her pack knick-knacks from the kitchen. You never seem to realize how much stuff you have until you have to move, Therese thought. Around 2, Carol arrived at the door.

* * *

Therese and Carol signed the lease, the contractor left, and there was stillness in tranquility. Therese was mute during the whole process, and the man who came with the papers didn't seem to think anything of it.  _Good,_  Carol thought. When the door shut, Therese's words found her again.

"I want to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"What do we… _tell_  people."

"About us?"

"Yes. About this. I'm finding it hard to come up with reasons."

"Ah, I see." Carol walked over to make herself a drink.

"Well, what I tell people is that you're a friend of mine who really needed a place to stay since you were having trouble finding a suitable apartment. Naturally, I would have to come to your aid. You are so very dear to me." She put her dry martini down, and beckoned to Therese.

"Come here."

Therese retreated into her arms, warmed by the comfort of security that their home secured. Their home. Them. Together.

"Thank you. Thank you for daring to love me." Carol nestled her head below Therese's.

Was it a dare? Was it a choice? Therese thought of it like a breath of life was summoned in her the day that she saw Carol, senses more vivid than ever before. How did she perceive anything until that moment? How does someone with bad vision feel when they put on glasses for the first time?

They went to bed, solely embracing one another. They faced each other while lying down, their bodies forming a heart formation, hands held and loosely holding each other. Their conversation eventually melded together with the sensational smoothness of porcelain marble. Though passion drove their movement, time was no longer of "the essence". They pulled, caressed, latched, as if in slow-motion- noses grazing the surface of each other's everything. Like magnets, they were static when attached, and attempts to change position were swift, eager, and charged to return to the resting stance of unity. A union of flesh, upper-bottom lips, gripping necks, like handles bars on a motorcycle headed for danger. Without the urgency. It was a plunge into a pool of satisfaction without hesitation or underlying impending consequence. With the exception of more, heart wrenching, inconceivable desire.

They fell asleep.

* * *

She was in a violent vortex of darkness that was a vacuum of sensations.

There was music playing, a horrendous rendition of "Easy Living" in a minor tone, reducing it to the taunting and surreal sounds of carnival noises. She wasn't alone. Her hands were attached to other hands. Strong, course hands that were swaying her to the haunting and diabolic ambience. Then flashes of Rindy's face appeared in the walls of the black hole. Harge's voice, amplified and more sinister, echoed.

"You're always the most beautiful woman in the room." Repeated over and over juxtaposed by Rindy's screams, calling to Carol more desperately in waves, piercing her conscience like darts. A bull's-eye every time. Then she heard Therese. The terror was dulled by it.

"Carol?"

She flinched into consciousness. Carol found herself with a worried Therese looking over her. Therese was holding her face.

"You're crying."

"Oh, I … I just had a bad dream is all." Therese's face pouted, the lines of her face becoming deeply empathetic. She cradled Carol, putting her head to her chest, stroking her golden curls. Carol hugged her torso, found her hands, locked onto them like light at the end of a tunnel. She used the pillow to wipe away the streams of tears.

"I'm here."


	5. Dearest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol takes a moment to self-reflect.

Without getting a minute of sleep that night, Carol gently slide out of Therese's embrace. It was around 5 am. She peered over at Therese's soothing murmurs and deep breathing- a simple soundtrack that induced peace. It was one of the rare occasions that Carol needed a form of personal therapy: She was to write in her diary.

But this wasn't one of those day-to-day ones. It was a leather-bound notebook that she tucked away in a secret drawer, accessed only to pour out all her disgruntlements and woes. To process the debates that internally festered into physical manifestations of tears. Having few friends she could trust, it was like a friend that would only listen. She hated to talk of such negative and depressing things. Saying them aloud would make them more pronounced, and she would not allow herself to succumb to its threats. She had written a lot lately.

_Jan 30_ _th_ _, Wed, 1952_

_The recurring dream happened again. I was confined to Harge in an eternal slow-dance until the end of time and space. Rindy was calling to me. It varied slightly from the other nights. I heard Therese from inside the nightmare, and it seemed to help. She broke through the trance and the nightmare ceased to be as vivid. She woke me up, even._

_She is truly my angel._

_It's good that she's here. It's good that she's here. It's good that she's here._

She wrote it three times. Was she trying to convince herself or expand her elation in repetition? She was unsure. Perhaps a little of both.

_Oh Carol, what a situation to find yourself in. I'm happy to see less of Harge, but the price to pay? It was Rindy. It was precious, innocent Rindy._

She had to pause for a moment to collect herself. She moved to the sitting room to smoke, not wanting Therese to wake up should she smell it. She wrote on:

_Am I a terrible mother? I know I ask this constantly; it's become a daily habit. I wonder everyday if she remembers to comb her hair, if she remembers what I look like. Kids don't remember things like that. I hope Harge doesn't take the photos of me that I gave her. I don't think I could bear it. I'll see her in a few weeks time. Until then, things must resume. They are not-so bad._

She paused. She looked towards the dawn and remembered: a perpetual sunrise.

_Therese came back to you. She flew back into your arms and she is here to stay. I feel things are too good to be true. Considering how things never seem to go my way, yet here she is. Just a few weeks ago I had foolishly prayed for something like this to occur. I even wrote in this very book those desperate pleas._

_This is nothing like I've ever felt. I was devastated, but now I am guarded from the overwhelming pressure previous. Loving Therese…I feel I have reached a capacity of potential I have never quite been able to grasp. I find myself drinking less, smoking less. More time replaced with proper affection. And I have it from her. Bursts of fresh air after having been submerged for a long period of time, drowning in the blackness of the merciless ocean. I didn't know I was drowning. I am no longer alone._

_The winter seems warmer with someone to share a bed with._

The ink in her fountain pen ran out. She wrote so fast her hand was aching. Soon after, she put out the stub and climbed back into bed. Carol loved to feel life around her. She tucked herself back into Therese.

Her guardian angel, this delicate being whose breath reminded her of the wind that guides ships towards their destination. She was the beacon. She was the light.

She was home.


	6. What?

Two weeks had passed since Carol had that nightmare. She still had to grow used to the idea of having Therese around, since seeing her beforehand had been such a strategic process. Now she was always there, still unpacking her things and finding them tastefully set in various locations around the apartment. Luckily, the house was barely furnished since Carol did not want anything that reminded her of the marriage she had escaped. Instead she was surrounded by snapped shots of human moments, each invoking an indescribable notification that everyone lives a life just as vivid and comprehensive as any individual must. It was easy to forget, with so much distraction and inherent selfishness. She felt grateful to be alive.

What she did realise was when she went out with Therese, was the attention that she got from young men. Each was like miniature under-developed Harge, looking for someone to settle down because it was the "thing to do" after a young strapping man finds a stable job to support a household with. She cringed at the memories of having fallen for the charming life plans that it implied. What was more, Carol exuded a natural confidence that had these young men cowering, as if they needed to simultaneously gain her approval to talk to Therese. She enjoyed this immensely. At times it was comical, for their sheer obliviousness to Carol and Therese's almost telepathic conversations through eye contact allowed them to make utter fools of themselves before coming to the realisation that they had absolutely no chance with either of the two women. But every time some man brazenly intercepted Therese's path to have a word with her, Carol felt a prickle of possessiveness that wanted to broke all composure and chase those men away from her. She had always wanted to use her gloves to slap someone in the face.

Therese often was with Dannie, a nice enough looking boy from the paper that she worked at. He was introduced to Carol on one occasion.

They always woke up together for the commute to work in the city. And since Therese could not yet drive, Carol would take her to the front door of her office. Dannie had been there waiting for her to discuss something.

"This is Carol Aird," Therese gesturing to Carol from inside the car.

"So this is the nameless lady that I've been seeing! Nice to meetcha. I'm Dannie, I work on the paper with Therese."

"Likewise." Carol was surprised to hear that he recognised her from the photos. This meant he had seen them before they moved in together. This meant that he was spending a lot of time with Therese after the road trip, probably. Maybe. Perhaps. She wanted to take off her leather gloves.

"I'll see you around 5?" Therese asked Carol.

"Yes, darling. I shall see you. "

"Bye-bye Ms. Aird." Dannie politely waved. Carol wanted him out of her sight, slightly jealous that he would be getting to spend all day with Therese.

"So that's her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's… _her_."

"Yes…She's Carol Aird. She's a good friend of mine." Therese was afraid she knew where this was going.

"Alright. Look Therese, you don't gotta hide anythi-"

"What are you talking about?"

Dannie looked hesitant.

"Well, I ran into Richard the other day, and he was asking me about you. He was asking if you was seeing anyone, you know, usual rejected ex-lover chat. He mentioned something about a lady…and then I saw the photos…I'm not an idiot Therese, I can put two and two together."

"What?" Therese remained resolute keep playing dumb. If men could be so unaware, so could she.

"She's your…she's your  _lover_ , ain't she?"

When he said it, it lost all sense of the magic it had when Carol said it the other day. It was a passing remark; a response to a particularly delightful compliment that Carol paid Therese, which she has meekly rejected as always. Then she said playfully:

" _Don't worry, I treat all my lovers like that."_

It rolled off the tough and dissolved in the air. Therese felt superbly uncomfortable now. Speechless, she quickly pulled Dannie into the entrance of the lobby and into a private vestibule.

Anxious whispering and checking to see if anyone was in earshot, she said:

"You're not going to say anything…. _right_?"

"What? You kidding? Come on Therese, you gotta give me more credit than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Therese, your lack of understanding could be bad for the paper." Therese hit him on the arm. This was no time for joking.

"Look, Therese, your secret is safe with me. Don't worry."

Therese looked unconvinced.

"Okay, if you must know, do you remember Genevieve Cranell? She was at that big party about a month ago. You know which party I'm talking about?"

Therese knew exactly which person he was referring to. She was like Carol. And she supposed, was like Therese herself as well.

"I think so…Genevieve who?"

"Aw, I thought I saw you two talking. But that's besides the point. Anyways, I met her that night and now she's a real good friend of mine. In fact, she's living with Jessie."

Therese remembered the nice straw-haired girl that Dannie had introduced her to once after work.

"What does this have to do with me?" And Carol, she thought.

"Okay okay." Dannie paused to look around as well.

"She's one of you. Ol' Gen is part of the whole 'scene' in New York. Well, I have to admit, I don't think I would be standing here, talking so calm to you about it if it wasn't for her. She taught me a fair few things about it."

The fact that both of them were reluctant to mention "it" was odd.

"'It'?"

"You know, the whole, same-sex thing."

Therese could not find the words. She felt like crumpling into a ball of paper and rolling away. She now realized that she did not want Dannie to know.

"You can trust me. Please."

"Understand, Dannie." Therese held back tears while she imagined the potential disastrous consequences the spread of this information could have.

"Look, you can trust me okay. I always had thought it was a thing of mental cases... I thought I was mental for a while too." Therese had thought she misheard him.

"Pardon?"

"I don't know…" Dannie looked conflicted himself.

"I never considered anything about it until Gen took me to one of her parties. There was this guy, we were fooling around. I don't know." Dannie looked guilty, as if he had been dying to tell someone. He probably wasn't able to talk about it at all. Therese knew exactly what that felt like.

Now it was his turn to flare back. Therese could have guessed a hundred different answers that Dannie could have given her- this possibility would have never crossed her mind for a minute.

"There! Now you know. So know we keep this secret together, alright?" He held out his hand for a handshake. A pact was being forged.

"Okay." Therese checked her watch.

"Shoot. We're really late." They got into an elevator.

"We're talking more about this later. Right now, we have work to attend to." Therese stared impatiently at the arrow indicating the elevator floors passed.

"Look, I promise I'll tell you more, in a more…private place. Here, take Gen's number. She could help you out with some stuff I imagine." When they reached the office, the editor told them off, Therese scrambling up some excuse about "lady problems". The editor, Mr. Frank Greene, disconcerted by the revelation of this piece of information, grouchily waved them off with a "warning." Dannie took a notepad and scribbled a number down for Therese. She folded it neatly into her breast pocket where it would remain safe. She couldn't quite help but imagine Dannie kissing a boy.

It was adorable.


	7. Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genevieve is a mixture of what I perceived to be Carrie Brownstein from the movie and what I read in the book. Hope you guys enjoy it. Also, thank you so much for all the positive comments! I am happy to hear that you guys are appreciating the story as much as I like writing it! Much to look forward to, and I might play with other forms of writing like prose, poetry, 1st person, and screenplay diction. Enjoy:

Therese spent the whole day at work with an acute awareness that Genevieve's number was in her knowledge. Every step she took, she felt the tiny piece of paper weigh her down like a seedling that was slowly planting itself into her body. She was much too keen to talk to Carol about it. It was agony to see every functional telephone. What was more, the fact that Dannie seemed to more know about this kind of "thing" was all in all, ironic and comforting at the same time. I am not mentally disturbed after all, if others have experienced this, she thought. She felt more and more curious for this whole new exclusive "society" that she knew so little about. She was slightly ashamed that she was almost entirely ignorant of it.

Therese had seen many a films where there was a stereotypical effeminate male character who lived an "alternative" lifestyle. Having studied a little bit of film while hanging out with Richard's crowd, she was told that these "homosexuals" were mostly for comic relief. They were perversions, inverts, and anomalies of nature. These "gays" were contradictions to be laughed at. A rush of sadness came over her. Dannie was certainly not any of those things, and that she ought to find out more.

Now that she really thought about it, she didn't even know what female "homosexuals" were called. She knew what they looked like, so often had she seen them hanging around town, sporting mens clothes with short haircuts, but what were they  _called_? She thought the term "gay" applied exclusively to men. What is the female version was, she would use most of her break ruminating over the possible configurations that would make sense of the concept. When she went outside to smoke a cigarette, more for some fresh air than the desire for nicotine in her system, she found Dannie there. They smoked and puffed in silence, until Therese decided to break it.

"Hey Dannie."

"Yeah?" There was a newfound meekness to his voice.

"What do you call…women who are attracted to women?"

"Oh, um. They're called, uh, " _lesbians_."

Therese would have thought the word to sound more glamorous. Instead, she thought it to rather extraterrestrial. Perhaps it was because it sounded slightly like "alien." Perhaps fittingly so.

"Ah. Thanks."

Dannie finished his cigarette first.

"Dannie…"

Therese grabbed his hand as he was turning towards the door. Then before she knew it, Dannie was giving her a hug. His arms slumped round her as he buried his forehead into her shoulder. There were no tears. Just breathing and solemnness, like the sullen buzz of a refrigerator. Therese tried to comfort him, but found this hard since her arms were squeezed tightly to her sides. Then, as suddenly as it happened, he walked inside as if nothing happened.

* * *

After work, Therese tried to find Dannie again, but was told he was sent to run an errand for the editor. She could not keep Carol waiting, she knew, so she made a mental note to give him call later. Genevieve's number pulsed like a living organism inside her pocket. Therese stood outside rigidly, regretting not having worn another coat. Maybe Carol would let her borrow something. Carol's car eventually pulled up.

"Hello, dearest. How was your day?" She petted Therese's hand as it scrunched up in cold on the seat.

"Oh gosh, you're hands are trembling." She took off her gloves and gave them to her.

"Here put these on." Then she placed Therese's hands in hers and clasped them, feeding her own warmth to her. It was like rubbing cold marble. Therese's face was full of colour now.

"But what about your hands?"

"Don't worry, I'm not cold." She started to drive. Carol had total confidence that Therese was not interested in Dannie, but it infuriated her to imagine him making a move on her. It was worse, because it would probably be a welcomed or even expected pairing for everyone who knew them.

"It was fine." Carol knew this to be utterly paradoxical, for Therese said it with such forced nonchalance. Should she be worried?

"What happened?"

"Well, Dannie told me something." Then it came out all at once. She told her of Genevieve, Dannie kissing other boys, and how he gave her the phone number that could unlock a whole other dimension of reality for them.

"Is that so?" Carol first felt relieved. Dannie wasn't such a bad fellow after all. He probably wanted nothing to do with Therese other than to be a friend. Then, she was precarious. It was not the first time she was met with an entrance to  _that_  world.

"Actually, Abby knows quite a bit about that. The queer culture in New York. But I suppose she'll know little about the newer trends being cooked up nowadays."

Therese looked shocked. Carol couldn't help but smile at her novelty.

"Have you ever been a part of it? The queer culture?"

Carol wanted to do justice to the conversation, but since she was trying to drive, her words came out matter-of-factly. "I went once to a party like that with Abby. I don't know how she managed to find that lot, but it was pretty much filled with...with people like us. I couldn't enjoy it much though, since I was always afraid Harge would pop up at any moment. Haven't been ever since."

"Why not?"

"I was afraid."

"I see. And why haven't you told me before?"

"Well, to be honest, I didn't really think about it. I suppose I was so content to having you all to myself, I didn't see a reason to." Carol looked away from the streets and at Therese. She no longer felt cold.

"But it was so very interesting to see. I might like to see it again. Now that I'll have someone to go with." Carol winked at her.

After picking up some food at the local deli, they went home. Therese, sat next to the telephone hoping Carol would tell her more. As she changed into her nightgown, she found the number scrawled in Dannie's hasty handwriting. She almost forgot, with Carol's own experience in "the scene".

"Hey Carol," she called her from the bedroom. Carol was cooking some lamb for dinner.

"Should I call Genevieve?"

"What? Come here darling, I cannot hear you. There's too much sizzling going on."

Therese walked into the living room and found an aroma and rosemary and butter crackling in the air. Carol was aproned up, still looking a vision.

"Should I call this girl?"

"The one you met at the party?"

"Yes."

Carol stirred the sauce in the pan before sautéing the pieces of lamb with it.

"If you'd like."

Carol was pensive. She was unsure how she felt about it. It was all moving so fast. Speed always complicates things. Mistakes can be made, and meticulousness was always lost amidst the scramble to progress. She didn't want to mess anything up with Therese. Perhaps the apprehension was getting the best of her, for she had never been one to feel so tentative. It would be good, she thought, to be in a comfortable social circle that she actually liked. She finally could put a name to the unnamed vibes that she was feeling ever since Therese moved in: fear.

"Of course, I won't do it if you don't want to." She asked it in a way that was so adorable and falsely compromising. It was a reversed request that Carol simply could not say "no" to.

"Yes. Why not?" It wouldn't hurt to try, and she knew how giddy Therese would be. In any case, Carol thought Abby would find it fascinating.

Therese ran up to Carol and kissed her on the cheek, and then took up the phone to make the call. Carol almost forgot about the sauce.

"Hello?"

"Hello there? Who is it? This is Genevieve Cranell speaking."

"Hi. It's Therese Belivet. We met at Dannie's party about a month ago?"

"Therese…" She seemed to remember.

"The photographer?"

"Yes!"

"Ah, yes. You're quite the pretty face, how could I forget?" What kind of tone was this?

"You're much too kind." Therese hated that she was blushing. She looked back to Carol in the kitchen, still preparing the appetizer, cutting up squares of Therese's favorite blue cheese and bread.

"Of course not. What can I do for you Ms. Belivet?"

"Well, Dannie gave me your number."

"Oh Dannie? He's a funny boy. Why?"

"Well, he told me about the parties you've taken him to."

"I see."

There was a definite understanding.

"Well I don't know what Dannie told you, Ms. Beliv-"

"Please, call me Therese."

"Well, Therese, I don't really know what Dannie told you, but I'm not holding any parties lately, if you're looking for an invitation, that is."

"No no, of course not. I'd not like to intrude on anything. I'd just like to know more."

"More about what?"

"About..our kind."

"Honey, you can say it out loud. We're _gay_  as the live long day."

Therese was taken aback by the brazen comment. Are women "gay" as well?

"Aren't we called.. ' _lesbians_ '?" Carol's immediately turned her head to listen.

"You can call yourself whatever you want. I personally like 'queer'. I'm a big fan of Q's."

"Queer?"

"Oh god, you have so much to learn." She took pity on Therese's naiveté.

"Here's what I can do for you. What time are you free this week?"

"Well I'm not really doing much after work nowadays."

"Perfection. You work with Dannie, no? Oh! Now I remember! Dannie has mentioned you a few times. He said there was a friend he worked with who he thought who was one of us. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

"I wouldn't know." Was she so obvious?

"I assume so. Well almighty, it must be fate! Meet me tomorrow after work and we'll go for drinks. I get off work around the same time as you. Make sure you tell Dannie."

"Dannie?"

"Of course. He's a doll for telling you."

"Oh yes, I know. Thank you very much, Genevieve."

"Not at all. I understand. You must be very lost. I certainly was."

"Yes. I have a…partner. Would she be able to come too?" Genevieve's voice grew a bit disappointed.

"I don't see why not. It'll be a flock of dandies."

Carol, attentively listening to the conversation, suddenly placed herself next to Therese and whispered,  _Don't worry about me. You go. I have plans with Abby tomorrow._

"Uh, Carol can't make it, actually."

"No matter."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow with Dannie, then."

"Alright Therese. Look forward to seeing you soon." There was a potential tinge of flirtatiousness.

Therese put the phone down. Carol was back plating up the finished meal.

"Therese, dinner's ready."

Therese slipped behind and slotted her hands between Carol, putting them in the apron pocket in the front.

"Thanks for cooking tonight. I promise I'll cook you something really nice tomorrow."

"Oh really?" She took Therese's hands and twirled her around, as if dancing, so they were face to face. She held Therese by the waist, hands kept low at the sides.

"How did the call go?"

"Well, she wants to go for drinks tomorrow with Dannie."

"That sounds nice."

"And you'll be with Abby."

"Yes."

"Alright."

"That's that."

"Mhmm."

"Yes."

With every response their faces became closer, faces grinning wider and winder. Therese was confused by the deliciousness of the smells and the ravishing look Carol was giving her. Carol was testing to see how long they could keep it up. Ultimately, they started fooling around, satisfying a different sort of hunger. Therese slowly untied the laces of the apron. Carol untied the strings of the nightgown.

The food lie forgotten on the table.


	8. Ms. Belivet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therese and Carol play around with the idea of what their lives would be like if they were married?

Therese pulled Carol into their room, and Carol sat on the bed, slowly unbuttoning the front of her blouse. As she undid each knot, their eye contact never broke, Therese looking voraciously at her while leaning against the closed door. An extra sense of security never hurt. Carol, having finally unzipped the sides of her dress, displaying her bare flesh.

"You are wondrously divine." Carol blushed.

"Likewise."

Therese flew to Carol, playfully straddling her. She wore nothing but silk undergarments and shirt. Carol, used to being on top, starting laughing. Therese was playfully pinning her down, wrestling her hands gently.

"What's so funny?" Therese began to laugh as well.

"Nothing. You are looking very _fine_ yourself. What a lovely fabric."

"Why, thank you."

They stopped. Carol rolled her over so that she was holding Therese down. She gave Therese a peck on the forehead, then the nose bridge, then closed eyes, lips following a trail delicate intuition. Hands, all the while, holding her jawline and the small of her back. Therese seemed to be holding her breath, as if a question was caught in her mouth.

"If we were married, would you be Carol Belivet...Or would I be Therese Aird?" Therese faintly said.

Carol stopped, then placed herself beside Therese, both of them facing the ceiling. Carol started to embrace Therese's side, putting her head in the nap of Therese's neck.

"I suppose I  _would_  be Carol Belivet. Hm, then I'd finally be rid of my  _dreadful_  surname."

"Aird?"

"Yes. It reminds me of a time of my life I'd rather  _not_  recall."

"I see." Therese continued to look upwards, as if the ceiling was filled with shooting stars that would whisk them away to the moon. Carol closed her eyes, deep in thought. She wondered if Therese ever associated her to Harge due to their shared last name. When they met, Carol had wrote 'Mrs. H.F. Harge" on that C.O.D. slip- that being the first thing that Therese had known about her.

"Carol Belivet." Therese seemed to pronounce it like each vowel sounded like trickling honey.

"Why, we'd both be 'Ms. Belivet'. What a queer thing to say!" The joke made them simultaneously burst into a fit of giggles.

"Oh Carol," Therese's body shifted to face her.

"I would very much like to marry you." Carol's eyes opened to meet Therese's expectant gaze. They both knew the impossibility of it, yet Carol knew that Therese's imagination liked to get the better of her. She closed her eyes again, gripping Therese's lean torso even tighter. She kissed Therese's shoulder.

"Dearest...I've been married once, and it was the most superbly tedious thing." Carol was trying very hard not to seem discouraging.

"I'd much rather just roll around with you in these sheets until the end of time and space." There was no reply.

"But if you'd like, you can call me Ms. Belivet." Therese seemed content with this answer, since she climbed back on top of Carol, and whispered into her ear:

"Carol Carol Carol. I don't need you call you anything else, I will love you all the same."

* * *

They both eventually found their way back to the kitchen, Carol, heating up the food in the oven once again. Therese picked at the cheese and bread.

"Oh shoot! I need to phone Dannie!"


	9. Friends of Dorothy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm studying a little but about 1950s LGBT movements and culture, so the terms that Gen teaches are actually true! This is what I imagine how the characters would interact with the queer scene in this era.

The next day, Therese felt like work lasted 5 more hours than usual, since she was too excited to meet Genevieve again. She couldn't quite visualize her aside from the vague idea of a handsome look about her. Therese didn't know how she knew that she was "gay", but it must've been something that only others of their kind could sense. Some kind of secret body language or instinctive radar of some sort. Her supervisor asked her twice if she was "paying attention" to what he was saying.

* * *

When the time finally arrived, Therese grabbed Dannie to leave.

"Haha! You sure are an eager beaver."

They waited outside until a woman sporting a short black bob topped by a navy blue bucket hat, wearing a black fleece coat, approached them.

"Hiya Gen!" Dannie went to kiss her hand.

"Yes, hello to you too," Genevieve turned towards Therese.

"Well, well, nice to see you again Therese."

"Thank you for meeting with me."

"The pleasure is  _all mine_." She looked at Therese for a moment, then went to hook Dannie's arm.

"I know a little place nearby. I'm dying for a coffee. This fleece is not nearly enough to keep my insides from freezing over."

They went to a café with dim lighting, decorated by vinyls of various jazz singers of the decade. It lacked the tacky quality that most diners had: the floor was of hardwood, the cushioned booths were of brown leather, accompanied by mahogany tables. It was mostly empty.

Geneveive walked in like she'd done it a million times before, picking the booth at the very end of the room.

"Sam? Can I get my usual?"

"Yes, of course Gen." The person behind the counter was a middle aged someone, wearing masculine clothing but had a feminine air. Therese had no idea whether it was a man or a woman, nor would she ask.

"What would you two like?"

"I'd have a coffee." Dannie raised his hand.

"Can I have a tea?"

"Marvelous."

Soon after the server brought them their drinks, Genevieve began.

"Right, so...What exactly can I do for you?"

"Well, you were the one who said..that..that I had a lot to learn."

"Gen, I'd say start with the basics." Dannie shot her a knowing look.

"Alright then." She took a long look at Therese.

"I don't want this to seem like a kind of "initiation," but it seems that you know little about the…implications, that living this way can have. I'm assume you know what I mean."

Therese was surprised she was speaking so directly about it, especially in a public place.

"Don't worry, this is a safe space. But if you're worried, let's say we're all ' _friends of Dorothy'_." Dannie smirked.

"Well, of course I know that it is..unspeakable." The fact Therese found it so hard to talk about it was evidence.

"Alright, well, as friends of Dorothy, in the times that we live in, it is dangerous to be know Dorothy, let alone be friends. We're in a constant game of cyclones. That is, if we're not careful."

"What does that entail?" Therese was buzzing for information.

"I suppose you know that being  _FODs_ , as we call it for short, is mostly, well, illegal."

Therese nodded. She knew as much that anyone who was considered homosexual would be susceptible to some kind of accusation of insanity or moral corruption.

"Actually, you can be criminally charged as a man" she looked at Dannie, who in turn, look sadly down at the table and drank his coffee.

"Dannie here is lucky. He'll only get half-arrested." Dannie choked on his drink, starting a mini-coughing fit. So Dannie likes boys and girls, Therese thought. It made sense, otherwise the fact that Dannie kissed her once before would have been that much more nonsensical. Genevieve continued.

"But the women, we won't get arrested.."

"But there's still horrific social backlash." Dannie finished for her, still regaining his breath.

"Yes."

Therese looked worried.

"However," Genvieve's face brightened.

"That's not to say we still can't have a little fun." Dannie smirked again.

"What's important, is to play with the public eye, keep it ambiguous, and  _never_  do anything unless it's confirmed that it's a safe environment. You never know. The best people will turn your back on you the moment they know anything. People are foolish that way. They're so set in their pattern of thinking that they'll unleash unconditionally hatred towards something that doesn't even affect them." Genevieve clearly had experienced this kind of betrayal, looking away for a moment as if reminded by the past.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Because you're a friend of Dannie's, you have my confidence. But don't be so quick to assume that everyone is the same. There's a lot of fear in our circles, since people have gone in and out with horrendous results. One of my friends, Lance, the sweetest fellow I know, placed his trust on someone who ended up telling his boss. No one at his office knows the real reason why he got fired, but I think his employer almost told the authorities. Thank god he wasn't a soulless scumbag like most of them are. Now, he's staying at my place. You'll probably meet him at some point." Dannie perked up at the mention of his name.

Therese made an audible gulp. She didn't realise the stakes were so high. She knew to be cautious, knew that her job was at risk, but didn't think of the actual consequences since she didn't want to imagine how they would end. It was eye-opening. She wanted Carol to be there, to hold her as she fretted.

"Anyways, you look like you have your wits about you. I'm sure you'll be fine. In fact, we could use a photographer in our meetings. You do photos, right?"

"Yeah, she sure does. They're really fantastic." Dannie beamed at Therese. She blushed, waving her hand as if to deflect the praise.

"That's much too kind to say. Dannie's just always been a fan." Then she thought back to what Genevieve was saying.

"What meetings?"

"Well, the have a little group of us that get together to discuss political actions. We keep up the news about latest developments from other states about gay rights, other events, etc. Some friends of mine organize a self-published magazine that serves as a basic manifesto for what we believe."

"What would that be?"

**"That we deserve the same rights as anyone else."**

It made sense, but the very thought of this "queerness" being interpreted as everyday normality was, at most, a surreal fantasy of a fictitious world. Certainly not the world that they lived in. Therese revelled at the idea, skeptical of its radicalism. Still, she wanted to help.

"Obviously, we're still a long long way. But it's the fight that counts." Genevieve looked at her with an incredible energy, though apparently tranquil, transferred the same fierce waves of power as crackles of fire. Therese felt inspired.

"Of course. Let me know where and when. I want to help."

Dannie seemed pleased, smiling at Genevieve contentedly.

"See Gen, I told you Therese is lovely, ain't she?"

"Indeed she is. Not too hard on the eyes either." She winked.

"Say, how did you realise?"

"Realise?"

"How'd you come to get to know Dorothy?"

Therese paused, for all she could think was the Wizard of Oz.

"Oh, um. Well, it's a pretty simple story really. I just…"

How could she possibly begin to describe what had happened between her and Carol. She felt like she could write a full-length novel describing the events that transcribed their meeting. How she was enraptured by a stranger's gaze, entranced and bedazzled. Flashes of images went through her mind. Gloves. Martinis. Smoke. American countryside. Her own diary back home had documented her thoughts when it happened, and those pages alone would be enough of a basis.

"Well, I suppose you and your "lady friend" will have to come join me at dinner sometime to tell me all about it." Genevieve said with such a friendliness.

"Dannie, obviously you're invited. You left your hat at mine the other day."

"No, I let Lance borrow it."

"Oh is that so?" Genevieve said it as a taunt. Dannie started drink his coffee, bent on avoiding her eyes. His expression caught Therese's interest at once.

"Oooh! Dannie... Is there...are you..?"

"No, no! It's nothing like that!" Dannie started flushing red.

"I need a cigarette." He abruptly finished his coffee, put on his coat, and hastily stumbled outside. He escaped like a school boy who didn't want to answer a question. Genevieve laughed as he trailed away.

"I bet you a million bucks that by the end of the month, I find them in bed together."

Therese could only swoon.

"Yes, I would love to have dinner with you. I'll ask Carol when there would be a good time." She thought of Abby.

"Could another friend come? She's also an...FOD."

Genevieve hesitated.

"Yes. Why not? The more the merrier. But  _you're sure_ , right?"

"Mhmm. She's, 'gay as the live long day'." Therese liked that phrase the first time Genevieve said it.

"Alrighty." She checked her watch.

"I'm free for the whole afternoon. Would you guys like to come to my house? I'm sure Lance would love to see a fresh face." She looked outside at Dannie, holding a cigarette.

"And he wouldn't mind seeing a familiar one either." Genevieve raised her eyebrows.

Therese needed to call Carol, but she knew that she would be with Abby. Therese was excited. Genevieve brought her so many possibilities to explore.

"I would love to."

Therese was pleased that Genevieve was so inviting. As much as it wasn't an "initiation," it was a straightforward informative meeting that allowed her to put all this "gayness" into political and legal context that she had been too afraid to ask Carol, for any mention of her own punishment from the legal system's askew ways would result in painful tears. She remembered the recurring nightmares that Carol had, hearing her say Rindy's name in her sleep. She was sure that Carol knew most of what Genevieve had told her, for when she looked back on Carol's own behaviour towards her in their initial moments of interaction, they had been as precarious, slight, and "ambiguous", as Genevieve had said. If Therese had been "normal", she probably would have maintained a friendship with Carol, never knowing of Carol's true intentions. _Thank god,_  she thought.

That night, Therese and Dannie went to Genevieve, who lived in a luxurious studio apartment. It had no rooms, just a single space that was divided by furniture and floating cloth hanging on wires in the air. It was utterly bohemian; most of the decor looked foreign and chaotically colourful. Pieces of avant-garde art were featured on the sides, potentially painted by some of Genevieve's friends. The more she talked, the more Therese understood her to be a very high-profile person to know in the liberal art social circles. Genevieve even allowed Therese to look through a few books and pamphlets that she had collected over the years, including one that said "THE MATTACHINE SOCIETY: I AM GLAD TO BE A HOMOSEXUAL", featuring a caricature of a grinning man. According to Genevieve, it was a draft copy of a gay men's organisation magazine that she was personally given to keep safe by the editor. Therese decided to borrow some books on human "sexuality", afraid by the size of the massive text. Lance, who had gone out to buy some food, was not there, much to Dannie's disappointment. Therese had called Carol beforehand, letting her know to pick her up around dinnertime. She told her that Genevieve had invited her to dinner, and that Abby could come as well. Therese could not read Carol's reaction to this piece of information, but she presumed it was a good one. The three of them talked more about current events, Therese and Dannie explaining the headlines that were going out for tomorrow's paper.

Meanwhile, Carol was with Abby.

**To be cont.**


	10. The Chartreuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby takes Carol and Therese to a secret gay bar.

Carol and Abby were sitting in a booth at their routine meeting place, The Chartreuse, each sipping on glasses of dry martini. For Carol, this was a safe haven. It was the only consistent location in her life at which she felt relaxed. There, smoking and drinking with Abby, was one of the few comforts in her life when things got rough with Harge at home. There was nothing that made her feel more peaceful than having a few cocktails with her best friend. A friend whom she had loved once.

The moment when Abby and Carol fell into bed together, such a long while ago, something inside Carol had blossomed as if she had been waiting to bloom her entire life. She thought she had been in love with Harge at the time, but something was always lacking affection. She had just supposed that life was  _meant_  to be like that between married couples. It was civil. Routine. Based on obligation and duty- altogether a rather drab situation. She didn't mind at first, until Harge's persona as a father and a husband grew more and more overbearing.

Carol had always put spending time with Abby above Harge, but that was normal of "girlfriends"- after all, they needed their womanly bonding time away from the men just as much as they needed to "get away" from their wives. But even before that night, in Abby's mother's house, where their bodies happened to grace the same sleeping space for the first time, she had somewhat precipitated it. The morning after was like fully realising a moment of awakening. Maybe even like waking up from a very long, very deep dream that mimicked reality. After that, the interpretation of desire was different. Abby seemed like a whole new person to Carol; she was no longer just a platonic confidant. She had thrown Carol into a chaotic pit of emotions that she was did not want to get lost in. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense. Why she never needed Harge's attention. Or how Abby didn't ever seem to be interested in dating.

Carol would catch Abby giving her intense gazes of indecipherable scrutiny that made her inexplicably blush. Even Carol admitted that she never really felt secure in the presence of Harge like she always did with Abby. It was hard to define what she felt about her after that. In the end, Carol recognised that she was not "in love" with Abby, but did love her fervently; the longevity of their friendship was the stronger bond she had created with any other human being.

Except for Therese, that is.

She found that for Abby, it was a platonic love so strong that it had almost been romantic. Things had changed, and she had been confused, masking familiarity and security with the same "love" they talk about in the movies. Now she knew what lustful romance was built on; it was constructed from the same feelings that coursed through her body when she saw Therese.

Some part of her knew that Abby had always, and will always love Carol  _in that way_ , but they both were smart enough to know that their presence in each others lives was far more important. Abby knew that she could have many lovers, but there was only one Carol, and she was to stay around for the rest of her days. They could not even imagine a world without one another, for in every stage of their lives, they had been at each other's side. Abby was her saving grace in the worst of times. What was more, Abby was her first, and there's a sort of unique fondness for the person who makes another realise their potential to love outside the confines of the conventional.

They only lasted for a few months, but they were already so dear to one another that it made very little difference when they stopped having sexual relations. What really interrupted their newfound passion was on a dreadful night in spring, when Harge had come back home early one evening to find Carol and Abby in bed. Thankfully, he didn't want to wake Rindy, so he proceeded to seethe hostilely while sitting in the living room, downing whiskey and watching Abby leave in the dead of the night. Carol paid dearly that night. After that, Harge resorted to using micro-aggressions rather than directly discussing the event. The adverse tension accumulated in the span of a year, resulting in the inevitable divorce that was finalised just a few weeks ago.

And still, Abby was here.

"How is Therese?" Abby said while she ate an olive off a toothpick.

"She's fine." Carol smiled at the mention of her name. She proceeded to exhale a long sigh.

"What's the matter?"

"I'll get to see Rindy next Wednesday." Abby took out the toothpick she was playing with in her mouth. Her face softened.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?"

"Indeed. I haven't seen her since that day Harge came and took her from me before Christmas."

"Oh, Carol...I'm sure she misses you dearly." Abby put a consoling hand on top of Carol's.

"It's been better, actually. I haven't had too much time to think about all the time she's away from me."

"Ah yes. I won't be able to catch you alone anymore." Abby gave her a cheeky wink.

Carol rolled eyes in the way she could only do with Abby.

"Having Therese around is…wonderful." And with a single word, Carol was able to gush every precious moment they shared together into a simple and infinite adjective.

"Just…Wonderful."

"I'm glad." Abby looked at her with genuine jubilation, for Carol's happiness was her happiness, and Abby's happiness was hers.

"I haven't told Therese yet."

"Oh, no?"

"I think that Rindy is …a hard topic for me to talk about with her."

"That's understandable. Naturally."

"Every time I do, she still seems to think of it as  _her_  fault, no matter how many times I tell her."

"As if she could've slapped that injunction on you!" She angrily refilled their drinks from a shaker." Carol closed her eyes, massaging her temple with one hand, the other clasped to her glass.

"Honey, sometimes it's easier for people to blame themselves for other people's problems than it is to blame the real culprit. In your case, it's the system." Abby started lighting a cigarette.

"She's a sensitive one, ain't she? I like that about her."

"Yes." Therese was definitely a sensing and introverted individual whose tendency to observe and admire made her particularly empathetic. Carol could see that in her photos. She didn't want to talk about Rindy anymore- the thought of getting to see her so little was sad, but it made her excited to be able to see her at all.

"She's been talking about a Genevieve Cranell. Have you ever heard of her?" Abby's ears perked up. She looked intrigued.

"How does Therese know about Genevieve?" Her voice was excited, with the same tone that Carol knew so well when they gossiped.

"Well, she said she met her the other day." Carol was growing interested.

"Why? Who is she?"

"She's the talk of the town! Well," Abby peered around the room.

"Our town."

"What do you mean?"

"She's a big name in those young bohemian circles, and is in charge of running the new lesbian and gay rights committees. She knows quite a few people in Los Angeles. They've got something going on there. Something good." Carol looked apprehensive.

"I see." She took a sip from the glass.

"I know you're not  _into_  that stuff, Carol, but these are important matters.

"Of course I know that…It's just…I don't want to risk anything. I just want to be left in peace."

"There isn't progress with peace. Only upholding what's in place" Abby said flatly.

Carol believed this to be true as well. She was more afraid than anything to lose Therese, now that she already lost Rindy, and there was no way she would let anything jeopardise that. The fear made her content to live a secret life with Therese, the scope of their relationship as big as their home would allow. She was abruptly reminded that she needed to tell Therese to decorate her "room", since she literally had put nothing in the abandoned second bedroom in the house that was meant to hers. They were always in the master bedroom, their bedroom, with all their clothes, accessories, bed robes and pyjamas, stored together in a rich oak armoire. Just like it should be. But if anyone should come to their house, it would be awfully suspicious if Therese's room looked uninhabited.

"You're right." Abby looked surprised at the agreement.

"How do you know Genevieve?"

"Well, you know how I sometimes go on those parties at the Sullivan's?"

The Sullivans' were a wealthy gay couple who held secret fancy parties for the "avantegarde" and the "homosexuals". Everyone in the high art circles gave a free pass to those with ambiguous sexuality since they would merely dismiss them as having "artistic vision". Plus, their guests were always so pleased with the outrageous themes that resulted in rather fashionable attendees, hardly anyone would speak ill of them. Both of the men, Warren and Freddie, each had married girls from their upper-class background, promising them comfortable lives with no duties of a marriage, so long as they would swap housing companions when the time came for a disguise.

"Mhmm. Yes, I've been to one of their parties before."

"Well, I met Genevieve just a few months ago, in fact, at one of their little get togethers, and she was quite the ambition activist too. She's also quite a looker."

"Is that so?" Carol finished her drink.

"I must get going Abby, I'm expecting a call from Therese soon. I should be home to get it."

"Since when did you run home to wait for a phone call?" Abby taunted Carol. She had never been as patient with Harge.

"Since I told her," Carol was starting to put on her fur coat.

"…I would." Abby smiled.

"You wanna come? We haven't had dinner yet. You could join us?"

"That would be nice. I haven't anything to do."

They both fetched their items from their booth, and headed towards Carol's car.

"Put it on our tab, Joey." Abby said to the bartender.


	11. Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dannie reveals a secret about himself.

Carol and Abby chatted into the night while sipping on wine, Carol carefully monitoring the telephone the whole time. She wondered why Therese hadn't called yet. Therese said she would at 6 pm, and she never failed to be punctual. Carol tried to cast aside thoughts of jealousy. What could she be doing? Surely, she was safe and sound. She'd probably be with Genevieve and Dannie. Carol pictured a charming woman walking with Therese down the street. It was much too early to be envious, but Carol had a definite possessiveness of Therese. After several minutes of impatient finger tapping, the phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"Yes?"

"Hullo." Of course Carol knew who was on the other end. But that didn't stop her using a falsely formal voice.

"Who may I ask is calling?" She could hear Therese's slight snigger.

"This is Miss Belivet, calling to see if her  _dearest_ , most loveliest lady-friend, has plans for dinner?"

" _Well_ , I suppose I can take a note for you, Miss Belivet." She said it with the same deliciousness she did the first time they met.

The little game they played was utterly facetious, but they couldn't help but toy around with the idea of role-playing strangers. Carol didn't want to remember a time they were unknown to each other. What was life before Therese? Mundane marriage living and overbearing Harge monitoring her every decision. She was no longer  _his_  wife. She was Therese's  _dearest_.

Abby was in the background of the conversation, half-sickened by the sweetness of their talk, half-swooning to see her best friend so disgustingly happy. She started to think about the meeting she had with Mary, the red-head, and smiled to herself. She wasn't doing too bad either, she supposed.

"You tell Miss Carol that Genevieve has invited us to dinner at her house." The game paused.

"Oh? Did she now?" Carol's voice changed tones, sounding more amused than delighted.

"Yes! She wants to meet you."

"I see... Would you hold on for a second? Abby is here." Carol held the receiver to her chest, covering the bottom half with her palm.

"Apparently, I've been invited to dine with Ms. Cranell." Abby raised one eyebrow, looking at Carol with curiosity.

"I guess you can finally see what she's like for yourself." Abby swiveled the wine glass in her hand, waiting for the outcome of the call.

"Hello, Therese?"

"Yes? I forgot to mention; I knew that Abby would be there too and she's very welcome to come."

"Is she now?"

"Of course. I'm in Geneveive's apartment now."

"Oh." She did not like the idea of Therese in some other woman's house.

"Perhaps tonight isn't a good time." Carol tried to sound casual, but Therese's voice fell into disappointing tone.

"No...?"

"Are you sure?" She could almost imagine Therese's face, pouting like a lost puppy. It reminded her of Rindy when she wanted a second helping of dessert.

"Perhaps on Sunday? Yes. Sunday would be better. Then we can relax with more time to prepare."

"Hm. Maybe you're right. We still have to finish off some leftover's in the fridge, don't we?"

"We'd not want that lamb go to waste, would we?" Carol heard the faint sound of a man's voice talking from Therese's end.

"Alright. I'll tell her that we'll meet for Sunday night. I'll be home within an hour. Dannie is going to give me a ride."

"I shall see you soon, my love." She put down the receiver.

"Abby. Would you like to have dinner with me Therese and I on Sunday, with Genevieve Cranell?" Abby appeared to be rather keen.

"How in the world did I get invited?"

"Therese said that she mentioned you, and that you had a seat at the dinner table."

"Well ain't she a sweetheart? Of course I'll go. Wouldn't want you to be having all the fun, isn't that right? I hope she remembers me." Abby finished the last drop of her glass of red.

* * *

Therese sat in the passenger's seat of Dannie's car, looking forward towards the street. Dannie was concentrating on driving.

"Say, Dannie." Dannie gave her a side-glance.

"Yeah?"

"Do you like boys or girls more?" Dannie tensed up.

"Um, to tell ya the truth, Therese, I'm not sure."

"I'm not really sure either…So far, all I know is…I'm in love with Carol." Saying the words out loud to a friend was like a diffused sense of tranquility. She didn't know she was always so stiff.

"To tell you the truth, I knew that I liked boys for a while now." Dannie frowned, eyes never looking away from the road.

"That night, when I kissed you…I was trying to prove something to myself. I was desperately trying to think that I was…well,  _normal_. And you were the only girl around that I actually felt comfortable with."

"Oh." That occasion had made Therese incredibly uncomfortable for days afterwards, confused that she didn't seem to care if Dannie had kissed her. She now realized that she didn't care if Richard kissed her either. As far as she was concerned, they were interchangeable lips that evoked no sensations in her whatsoever. They were  _incomparable_  to Carol's gazes and caresses.

"I'm sorry." He looked over to her for a single moment.

"It's in the past."

She felt sorry for Dannie. At least for Therese, she never really doubted her love for Carol, but she had neither denied it nor repressed it. From the first moment she saw Carol, in dreary Frankenberg's, she had known. "You are magnificent" she had said to herself. She even recalled contemplating sending Carol's gloves back with a card that said "I love you." Those feelings were new, but it never occurred to her to reject them, no matter what society said. It took her a while to really discover what that "love" was.

But she did find it hard to tell Richard that she no longer really wanted to be with him,- that the time they shared was nothing more than passing time in the same space. It was a social ritual to have a boyfriend, and he filled the gaps of that expectation. Actually, Therese had been grateful he was the one to leave. The day he stormed off, the night before the beginning of  _that_  road trip, Therese felt calm- as if a weight she didn't know was there had been lifted.

"I wish everyday that I didn't have those thoughts."

"What do you mean?"

"I just…I just want to be a normal guy like everyone else. I want to be a writer. I want to get married, and have kids. I don't want to have these urges."

"But Dannie, you still can have all those things." Therese wanted to understand his anguish.

"Therese, remember that conversation we had? About attraction? And how you can't control who you're attracted to?"

"Yes." She remembered it too well.

"I can't control it. Sure, I like girls. I never doubted that. But my feelings for men…They're stronger. I get nervous and sweaty. I know it."

As if finished his sentence, Therese realized that they had arrived at her doorstep.

"Dannie…It'll be ok."

"What will happen if my brother finds out? What will happen if anyone finds out?" His voice was breaking. He seemed much more relaxed with Genevieve was around. Perhaps she was a source of comfort, because it seemed to be so "typical". She found herself a little more at ease as well, since it was the first time when she could properly be herself without fear of accidentally revealing information about Carol. Earlier that night, Therese, Genevieve, and Dannie were all jovially talking about "gayness" so casually. Now, it was a topic of conversation that scared Dannie.

"Hey, shh, shh. There, there. " Therese gave him a hug from her seat, patting his back gently, as if she was comforting a little lost boy.

"It'll be fine. We 'queers' stick together." Therese smiled. Gradually, Dannie thanked her, driving away with a melancholic look about him. The last words she said to him were: "There's nothing wrong with you."


	12. Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendship is EVERYTHING. Be kind to your friends. Support your fellow gays

 Therese was shaken up by Dannie's sorrow. Carol saw her, shoulders slumped, head downwards, looking worried.

"Is everything alright?" Therese broke into a reassuring stance.

"I'm fine. I'm just worried about Dannie. He was so afraid…" Carol knew what she was referring to. She received her at the door with a comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry to hear." Abby heard what Therese had said, and she understood as well. How terrified they all were, deep down inside. A sullen silence filled the room.

"Poor thing" was all Carol could say. Therese retreated into her arms, a safe haven where no one could harm her. All that could be heard was Abby, exhaling smoke. How something like "love" could ever inspire such a sense of terror, Therese did not know. But she felt better having Carol like a shield around her. If this was insanity, she did not want to be cured. Carol let her go and held her by the shoulders.

"You must be starving! It's nearly 7. I'll heat up the food." She went to turn the oven on after guiding a melancholic Therese towards Abby.

"How's it going cupcake?"

"Alright." Even Abby's persuasive cheerfulness could not lift her from her thoughts.

"I heard you met Genevieve today?" At this, Therese did lighten up.

"I did…do you know her?"

"Sure I do! Met her at a party, didn't I?" She looked towards Carol, who was overseeing their conversation whilst eyeing the kitchen, leaning against the counter. Therese thought a but more about Dannie, how he left her with a multitude of things to think about.

"When did you know, Abby?"

"Know what?"

"When did you _know,_ you know _?_ " Abby tilted her head, staring at the ceiling.

"I think that I had always known." She said this after a long while, as if reminiscing past memories. It made Therese think of what Abby might have looked like as a little girl.

"I see."

"Would you like some tea?" Carol interrupted, pretending and not pretending to eavesdrop.

"Yes please." Therese replied quietly.

"Are there any doughnuts left?"

"I'll bring you one. I know you like chocolate filled ones."

"No, no. I'll get it myself." She got up to go towards Carol, using the kettle as an excuse to bury herself once more into her arms. Carol rubbed behind Therese's ears affectionately. Abby continued to look at a flimsy lamp.

"I think that some of us are born knowing, and the others discover it much later. And when they do, it's much too late." Carol crossed her arms, standing very still. Therese watched Carol as she put a teabag in a mug, fully aware of a familiar darkness in her grey eyes.

"Remember how I met with Mary the other day?" Therese and Carol nodded.

"Well, my suspicions were, correct, as always. She was interested, I could tell straight away. I had to get together with her a few times to confirm, but I could feel her communicating…through messages neither spoken nor gestured." They were very familiar with what "messages" she was talking about. It was a silent dialogue that transmitted not only desire, but also a forbidden longing that no one else seemed to be able to detect.

"The last time we met, at her café, she lead me into the storage room when she showed me the kitchen…She was so gorgeous. Her red-hair reminded me of Judy Garland when she played that silly girl who was whisked away by a tornado. She kept looking at me, as if I was constantly evolving into something new. Even in the darkness and must of that dowdy pit, I knew what I was meant to do." Abby tapped her cigarette in the ashtray.

"I kissed her. Right there. First on the cheek. Then on the lips. Right in front of a bunch of canned pickles. How romantic, eh?" Abby laughed lightly, turning suddenly very solemn.

"She ran away afterwards. Pretended like it never happened. When I found her in the bathroom, fixing her lipstick and straightening up her curls, she didn't mention it at all. All she did was offer me a muffin, and a chance to meet once again. Only this time, it was going to be at her house."

"Then what happened?" Carol said eagerly, now holding Therese, who was leaning against her. She stroked her brown hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. Therese clutched Carol's hands that rested on her stomach.

"Well, I went, naturally. Mary lives alone in a studio apartment, just near her café. She was trembling, nerve-wracked even. 'I've never brought someone here before' she had said. She had only recently moved away from her father, who pressured her to take over the steakhouse." The oven chimed, indicating that the lamb was readily heated. Carol took the tray out and put a portion on a plate for Therese, who was so captured by Abby's story, she forgot to start eating. The lamb lie forgotten on the counter once more.

"Then, before I knew it, we were in bed together."

"No!?" Carol had gasped scandalously. Perhaps she was jealous for how easy it seemed for Abby to find someone, she thought, but she was much more surprised that impressed. The whole ordeal with Therese had escalated rather fast, over the span of 2 months, but she knew that Therese was exceptional.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Carol then realized- she never asked about Abby's love life earlier that day. Too concerned with her own, she had forgotten about the "Rita Hayworth" redhead Abby had mentioned so long ago.

"I didn't want to spoil your fun. What ended up happening was-" Abby's face darkened.

"She started crying, and screamed for me to leave." Abby hastily lit another cigarette, visibly disturbed by the turn of events that had befallen her.

"But she called me today to apologise. And that she wanted to see me again." Abby let out a look sigh, infused with cigarette smoke that mirrored the cloudy emotions that hung in the air.

"I'm sorry that things turned out that way," Therese said, going over to Abby to console her. Carol beat her to it, placing a hand on Abby's shoulder, petting her gently.

"That's just how it goes, really. You were really lucky with Carol, Therese. Don't you ever forget it." She shot a look into Therese as if it penetrated her soul. Therese was overcome by a sensation of honour and responsibility that had never occurred to her until now. She was one of the "lucky" ones. She had won, like Abby said to her so long ago, through a series of unforeseeable circumstances that interlaced to make a most satisfactory result. Constellations couldn't happen unless the stars align, and Carol was the most beautiful sight in her banal life, Therese thought.

"I understand why. Why she would do those things. It's the same cycle of thinking. You can deny or ignore your feelings as long as you want, but at the end of the day, it's those same feelings that consume you completely, driving your motivations and passions without inhibition. And once you give in, release your self-control for a single second, it all comes crashing down." No one said anything, for the air in the room hung too heavy with truth to really respond.

"I cried the first time I knew that I was in love with a girl, so naturally, why wouldn't she?" Abby couldn't help but smile with sorrowful empathy.

Carol went to go sit next to Abby, holding her hand. Therese went to the other side of her and did the same. Abby felt her heart melt, surrounded by support and love she rarely could find in anyone else but Carol, and now, Therese.

"I don't want to dim the room with my shenanigans." Abby took both their hands and held them all together.

"But, thank you." There was a brief moment of mutual sympathy before Therese latched away to answer the singing, boiling kettle. Carol squeezed Abby's hand even more tightly, as if she could transmute a curing love through her hands into Abby's.

* * *

Abby left shortly after they finished their meal, everyone trying their best to avoid sentimental topics. Abby did not seem to want to talk about her personal predicaments anymore, and neither Carol nor Therese wanted to pressure her. When she did leave, Carol took Therese's hand and led her to the bedroom.

"May I hold you?" Therese asked.

They lied there spooning, each processing their own interpretations of what Abby had said. Both of them could agree, however, that as much as the denial had been  _real_  at some point, they had  _never_  doubted each other's love. Therese submerged her senses into Carol's hair, back, and neck, struck again by Carol's wholeness and effervescence.

"What are you thinking?" Carol had stayed silent the whole time, probably worried about Abby.

"Just that.." She turned to face Therese.

"This is why you're my angel."

"Flung out of space."

And they kissed just once- a single, sumptuous amalgamation of exquisite passion.


	13. Sunday Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The friends have a heart to heart...with cocktails.

When Abby left Carol and Therese's home, heart heavy and full of pessimistic thoughts, she clung on to the hope that Mary would call her again. I might have to do it, if she won't, Abby thought. She was never one to wait around for calls, and knew better than to let someone get under her skin- Carol was the first, and she wanted her to be the last.

But seeing Carol so happy, so content, made Abby want the same. She used to think that singledom was the ultimate freedom for her kind, and  _now,_  she was ready to chase a redhead and throw caution to the wind. Did she love her? Was she in love?

Perhaps.

There was infatuation and intrigue, but it was mostly a desire for companionship…and a degree of lust. She liked the attentiveness she felt when she was with Mary. After all this time, she wanted someone to come home to. It wasn't that she was starved for attention, but the usual person she would go to was Carol, whose attention would now always be divided by Therese. It wasn't like this when she was with Harge. Carol escaped the house to spend time with Abby, made excuses and skipped important meetings with Harge's co-workers. Now that Carol had a job, as well as someone she actually wanted to go home to, Abby could only really catch Carol in rare intervals. Or, they could always go back to her home, where she would be waiting for Therese or coming home to her. Not that Abby had anything to hide from Therese, but it simply wasn't the same. She wasn't jealous of Therese having Carol's love- but of her time.

She was determined to find out where this…" _thing_ "…with Mary would take her. She was attracted to her, but Abby was never one to fall in love so easily. The difficult part was over. It was a waiting game now, and she was an expert player. Abby was used to waiting around for other women to come to terms with their latent attraction to her. She had brushed aside her feelings for Carol for many years until that one fateful night, where her patience finally paid off. It's going to take a while- it always did, but I have nothing to lose, she thought. Nothing at all. There was nothing waiting for her either.

* * *

The beginning of February saw slightly warmer weather, and the snow didn't fall as frequently or hard as before. It made for a rather romantic atmosphere. Sunday approached, and Genevieve planned to make a dinner for 6: Dannie, Therese, Lance, Therese, Carol, Abby, and herself. Therese talked about Sunday with so much anticipation, she hardly spoke about anything else. Carol would half-heartedly smile at this, for she wasn't sure if she was so happy to go to Genevieve's house for dinner. She didn't have a concrete reason for her unwillingness, but she simply did not like the idea of it. Carol made a mental note for ask Therese if she wanted to wear matching coloured outfits, then thought it might look silly. She spent her day at the furniture store completely distracted by the possible appearances of Genevieve, loathing the idea that she might be more beautiful, more charming, than she was. She tried to put her mind from it. Why was she feeling defensive?

* * *

Later that evening, Abby, Therese, and Carol drove to Geneveive's an hour before dinner was scheduled. Therese insisted that she try driving for half the route, and sped along the road with a devil-may-care speed. Abby made a gesture of the cross on her chest and made a false prayer while Carol laughed at the motion. When they arrived, Carol and Abby fled the car, happy to be on stable ground again. All Carol could do was look at Therese in a way that said, "Oh dear, how reckless you are. But I love you for it all the same." Therese was unfazed. She trudged onto the door. Therese lifted the knocker, which was crafted to look like a lion's mouth. Shortly afterwards, the great oakwood door swung open. Carol seemed to brace herself.

"Well aren't you just a group of superbly gorgeous ladies? Come on in! I'll tell Gen you guys are here."

A well-groomed blonde man answered the door, wearing an oxford shirt with suspenders. His hair was slicked back like a movie star, but had incredibly kind and dazzling eyes. He waved them in while he walked quickly towards the kitchen and gave a slight yell in a sing-song way.

"GEEEEEN! They're here!" Immediately, his attention shifted back to the three women, who were taking off their coats.

"Hello there, I'm Lance. I'm living with Geneveive at the moment. Oh, you ladies can put your coats over there."

He gestured expertly at a closet near the entrance, and Therese, Abby, and Carol were in awe of this pretty man in front of them. His voice had an effeminate quality- his movements clean cut and planned. They all realized: Lance was gay. One of those gay men whose sexuality blossomed in every pore of their being; their disclosure which was usually turned a blind eye to.

"Hi, I'm Therese. And this is Carol Aird." Therese was so used to introducing Carol this way to people, who always suavely accepted any handshake with great grace. She realized she was always eager to present Carol to people, proud to be the one that Carol was with.

"And this is Abby. A friend of mine." Carol turned towards Abby, who in turn did a mini salute to Lance. He took all their hands and kissed them just above the knuckles with a gentlemen's class.

"It's a pleasure. Come, come! Dannie is already here. Can I get you girls a drink?" Therese requested a glass of wine, and found Dannie in the living room, beer in hand, admiring the pictures of Geneveive in varying poses with interesting looking strangers. He silently greeted her, shyly introducing himself to Abby. His eyes trailed after Lance every time he entered and exited the room, like a neglected puppy who merely craved attention from his master.

Both Abby and Carol were given dry martinis, moving side by side in solidarity. Therese noticed Carol's tendency to stay next to Abby, and suddenly pulled Carol towards her, tugging her by the hand. Even indoors, in private quarters, Carol took her hand away from Therese, looking around in alarm.

"It's okay. You know it's ok." Therese's face looked dampened. Carol caught herself softening. She seized Therese's lingering hand.

"You're right. I'm sorry. It's habit."

Abby came behind Carol and put her arm over her back, stroking her shoulder with her fingers.

"Ya nitwit." Abby teased Carol for being so wound up. She knew that Carol was on edge because she was in Geneveive's house, whom she did not seem to like one bit. Then, the woman of the hour entered the room.

"Welcome my lovely friends. May Dorothy bring more of us together with every passing day!" She held a glass of wine high in the air, giving a toast to the room. Her eyes fell on Abby, which made her eyes narrow.

"Well, well, well, we meet again." It was a friendly tone.

"Indeed." All a sudden, there was electricity in the air.

"I'd remember a face like  _that_  anywhere. We met at…"

"The Sullivan's. At Warren and Freddie's anniversary party."

"Ah, yes. Abby Gerhard, wasn't it." Genevieve took a sip from her drink, never once looking away at Abby, who threw her a playful wink. The rest of the people in the room were merely flies on the wall.


	14. Apple Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I realise now that the time has been incorrect, and I want to correct this inaccuracy. According to the film, the hearing for Carol would bein March or April, and it would have been at least a month since they last saw each other (according to the scene where Carol says "It's been over a month since she tried to call." So I'm guessing all this is happening actually in late February. Sorry for the misunderstanding :D From now on the date will take place then.

They took their seats to dinner, Carol next to Therese, Dannie next to Lance, and Abby and Genevieve at the ends of each table. It was a simple Sunday Roast, with individual plates covered in an array of gravy flooded meats, vegetables, and potatoes. Yet the aroma didn't overpower the tabletop etiquette that everyone abided by. There was little chatter as the meal commenced, and it felt like a much more formal occasion than it was meant to be.

"Shall we start?" Lance said while brandishing his fork and knife in each hand. He looked hungrily at the plate, and Abby and Genevieve looked hungrily at each other.

Carol, who was growing increasingly relaxed with a dry martini in her system, was trying to read the body language that Abby was giving. It seemed that something had happened with Genevieve before- something more than Abby had cared to mention. Therese was peacefully watching Dannie, preoccupied by his blatant crush on Lance. No one dared to start eating before Genevieve.

"Bon appetite!" She plunged her fork into her mashed potatoes, triggering the clinks of plates all around the table. For a few minutes, nothing could be heard except for chewing noises and sips of wine, but the lack of words didn't mean there was a lack of communication. Abby seemed to eat in slow motion, delicately handling each mouthful with a finesse that Carol had never seen. Therese noticed Carol watching Abby, and was wondering why she had such a fixation on her. She understood. She saw that Genevieve seemed to match her pace, as if they were having a silent battle of who could eat more elegantly. It made for rather good dinner entertainment. The two men were oblivious to the micro-motions between the women, heartily munching on the delicious food on their plates.

"Gen, this is really good." Dannie said politely, trying not to eat so fast. Lance, who looked and acted classy, was as messy an eater as a teenage boy after baseball practice.

"Oh, it was nothing." Therese saw how Genevieve was acting with a new kind of allure that she didn't see in her before. Certainly not earlier that week when she requested Therese over for dinner.

"Yes Genevieve, it is rather good. Do you cook often?" Abby spoke like no one else was in the room.

"I do."

At this point, Therese and Carol had yet to say anything at the dinner except for the habitual please and thank you's that came with being invited to a meal.

"So, Genevieve, I hear that you've asked Therese to take photos for the meetings that you help organize?" Carol, who was masterful in her abilities to carry a conversation, tried to create a flow of dialogue amidst all the odd tension in the air.

"Ah, yes." She spoke like she just whisked her head out of the clouds.

"I'm delighted we have a photographer on hand now. It'll do wonders for creating a more official feel."

"I'm very excited. When is the next meeting I should come to?" Therese chimed.

"I'm thinking sometime soon. We meet on the last Thursday of every month, and we just had one in January just a week ago. I'll keep you posted."

"Wonderful…I just-, I have no idea what to expect."

"You'll do fine. We just need a few group photos. We need to work very discretely. Those photos, though useful in function, can also serve as incriminating evidence to "out" people. You are going to become extremely key in the confidentiality aspects. But I trust that you're quite good at keeping secrets, aren't you?"

"Aren't we all?" Abby replied. This prompted a small laugh in everyone.

Lance, who had licked his plate clean, was wiping his mouth with a napkin. He seemed slightly bitter. Genevieve saw his discomfort at the topic.

"Sorry, Lance."

"No, it's fine. You're absolutely right." He looked directly at Therese.

"You have to be  _very_  careful. I suppose that Gen told you what happened to me."

"What?" Carol and Abby said together.

"Well, I made the mistake of telling someone who I  _thought_  was my friend…About… _it_." Dannie looked sympathetic

"It cost me my job and apartment." Carol, Abby, and Therese put down their forks. There was an awkward pause that seemed to lament the events that had befallen Lance. It was a situation that very potentially plagued every single person at the table, and the reality of that danger was etched all over Lance's face. Genevieve reached her hand over to his.

"We're here for you. I'm here for you." Dannie, who was in a state of blunder, clumsily grabbed his wine glass and proposed a toast.

"To Lance!" Everyone else reacted the same.

"To Lance! There's not a finer fellow I know." Genevieve added.

"Hear hear!" They took sullen sips, but Lance seemed to cheer up a bit.

"Now, who wants pie?" Lance definitely livened up at these words, and went to retrieve it from the kitchen. Dannie tailed after him with the finished plates. Carol got up to excuse herself to the powder room, Therese accompanying her. Abby and Genevieve were left alone.

"And then there were 2." Genevieve said.

"I didn't think that you knew Therese. What a coincidence."

"I'll say. I was hoping I might see you again. But one never knows with the parties that the Sullivan's throw. Such a hodge-podge of people from all walks of life."

"You never know. You  _will_  something enough, and fate starts throwing you a bone." Abby grinned, and Genevieve took another pensive swig from her glass. The words exchanged, through few, seemed to have several different connotations behind them. Abby felt her cheeks grow red with alcohol and another sensation that had nothing to do with the wine.

"Why don't you give me a call sometime? When there are…" Genevieve looked around the table to check that no one was returning.

"…less people around." She winked at Abby.

"Gladly." Genevieve walked over to Abby's end of the table and slipped her a tiny piece of paper into her hand, as if it had been ready to be given all this time. Their fingers touched briefly against each other in the transaction, and Abby didn't dare look directly into Genevieve's eyes. She thought about Mary. She put the red head away from her mind.

Everyone was back in their seats. There was a wholesome apple pie that had been sitting in the oven all this time. Genevieve served Lance, then the rest of the guests.

Though she had claimed to Therese that she wanted to know all about Carol and how they met, it seemed an unimportant topic now that Abby was here. But she seemed to notice this, and caught herself, perhaps realizing that she knew herself to be a better hostess than this. Little did she realize that everyone wasn't paying attention to her hostess duties  _at all_. Everyone seemed to be paired off in their own realms of attraction. Dannie said very little, besides laughing hysterically at everything Lance said. Therese and Carol, whose attempts at being discrete had failed, were holding hands underneath the table. Abby had realized because she knew that Carol wasn't left handed, and their one-handedness throughout dinner meant they might as well have help hands openly on top of the table.

She supposed it was the best-case scenario if she wanted to focus on Abby. Her presence here was random, like sudden rainfall during a drought she didn't even realize was there. She tried her best to make a intelligent impression, discussing current issues and participation in activist groups, taking Abby's fascinated silence as an indication of success. She peered at Carol in passing, pierced by a pair grey eyes that seemed to be analyzing her very thoughts. There was a knowing look about them, and Genevieve suddenly felt stiff. Carol then looked over to Abby, who tried to conceal a mischievous look from her by focusing on her pie. They had a silent conversation only long-time best friends have, and Genevieve looked back and forth between them in attempts to decipher the subtle movements of facial expression. Therese, who was used to this, smiled as she watched Genevieve's eyes dart forward and back.

* * *

The Sunday dinner ended rather early- the end of every weekend always meant the start of the depressing weekdays. Everyone had to get up early for work the next day. The meal, while enjoyable, had been as uncomfortable as it was interesting. Dannie offered Abby a ride, and was given a kiss on the cheek by Lance. Carol and Therese left together in their car first, watching a prolonged good-bye between Abby and Genevieve. There was an intense handshake between them; Carol saw them still holding hands even as she drove away from the house. Therese was first to point it out.

"Who would've known that Abby and Genevieve-"

"I'm surprised that she didn't tell me about it." There was a definite hint of disappointment. Carol knew everything about Abby. Or so she thought. The electricity between them was palpable, but she supposed this was merely because they were allowed to be open about it. First the redhead, now this? Therese gave her a peck.

"I'm sure she's going to call you later tonight. She always does." Abby made a routine call to Carol's in the night, usually a few hours before she went to bed.

"If she doesn't, then I have something I want to tell  _you_  instead." At this, Carol gripped the steering wheel tighter, threw a naughty look at Therese, and winked.


	15. It's the Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A daily reminder is always nice.

Therese's work had become progressively intensive as her responsibilities grew with every published issue. Carol saw that Therese would return after dinnertime, always exhausted when she came home. She knew that Therese was stressed, because she was eating less and less of the food she would prepare for supper every night. Often she would find Therese sat down on the couch after coming through the door, asleep fully clothed with her briefcase still latched in her fingers. Carol would have to gently tap her back into consciousness to guide her to the bedroom. Carol would help find the pyjama set she always wore, pine green with white polka dots, while Therese absent mindedly took off her work clothes. Then, she would slump into her side of the bed, Carol watching over Therese's delicate breathing, until she herself was ready to plant herself besides the slumbering angel. Once in a while, if she felt particularly coy, Carol would wear Therese's pyjamas instead of her normal bathrobe, feeling a newfound playful giddiness that she never felt otherwise. At this, Therese would instinctively wear Carol's bathrobe, and they would silently acknowledge just  _how_  staunchly different their styles were.

"Remember that thing I wanted to tell you?" Therese said it as if drunk, her eyes half closed, body lying limply on the bed. Therese stared lazily at the speckled white ceiling that slightly resembled flecks of frozen paint. Carol was taking off her make-up in front of the bathroom mirror. Therese took note that she preferred Carol without make-up, for the vividness of her true features were a private privilege that few knew. Carol was softer, less intimidating. Despite not being able to remember a time where she did not have her in her life, Therese was sometimes caught off-guard that such an impressive and impressionable woman was  _her_  lover.

"Oh?" Carol almost had forgotten.

"Was it something important?"

"Just, I love you." Like the first time she said it, Therese felt each letter leave her lips- precious caresses that soared through the air into Carol's ears.

 

_Just to let readers know that this is where the fanfic ended because I didn't have time to continue writing it. I want to keep writing one day though! Thanks for reading!_

 


End file.
